Little Roots: Interlude
by The Hint Guy
Summary: Lidya Pine, the youngest League Champion in Hoenn history, loses everything when she's framed for a heinous crime. She flees Hoenn with her friend Taylor, and the two begin a desperate journey that takes them to far-off lands. Sequel to Little Roots: A Champion's memoir (complete) and prequel to Little Roots 2: A Champion's redemption (in progress). Mild language. Please R&R.


**Little Roots: Interlude**

I wish my story ended the day I became the Hoenn Champion. I wish I'd just lived a happy, easy life after that; a life of battles and friendships, a life with some romance and occasional adventure… the idyllic life I dreamt about when I was a girl, back in Olivine. I wish that was the tale I was about to tell you.

It is not.

" _Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to today's League Championship Challenge Match!" Applause. "Today's challenger is… Wally, of Petalburg!" He enters the arena. His eyes are steel, his heavy boots penetrating the dust like ploughs. He takes his position at the north end of the ring, and pulls back his umber trench coat to reveal a belt of Pokéballs. The crowd claps politely—they've seen this before, too many times. His long, matted green dreadlocks sway gently from side to side._

Things began smoothly enough. They gave me a month to retrain my team, since I'd lost a few members in the final match, and I ended up with a Camerupt and a Banette in place of Hotwings and Rayne—not that any Pokémon could replace those two trusted companions. After my sabbatical, I faced challengers about once a week. Most weren't worth my time. It surprised me how many incompetent trainers made it to the final battle, only to be crushed within six attacks, but I soon realized that was the result of two things: an imbalanced Gym system, and an outdated Elite Four roster. Both were flaws I moved to remedy quickly.

My new rules of engagement for battles in Hoenn were almost immediately hailed as revolutionary. Fatalities in battle dropped sixty percent within the first month. I will probably always regard that as my greatest accomplishment as Champion, come to think of it. Fewer Pokémon dead in battle? Yes please. The other changes were less well-received, but the status quo soon shifted, and I think Hoenn ended up better off for it. Trainers now had to be licensed and certified before they could get a Trainer ID, and only those sixteen or older could do so. It meant fewer kids blowing through the Gym circuit with their parents' Pokémon, only to lose a few in a real battle against my personal cadre of guardians.

" _And now, please join me in welcoming the current Hoenn Pokémon League Champion… Miss Lidyaaaaaaa Piiiiiiiinnne!" I emerge to thunderous cheering. My fans are legion in their "Lady of Littleroot" t-shirts. Some sport tendrils of purple face paint, representing the toxic poison scar still visible on my exposed shoulder. I take my place at the south end of the circle, and adjust my shoulder strap of Pokéballs. I am not nervous. I am not afraid. Until I look in Wally's eyes, that is. Every time, their animal ferocity terrifies me._

I made a point of visiting each Gym personally early on in my tenure. Having fought my way through them only a year or two prior, I knew what each was lacking, and turned my attention to those whose standards did not meet my own. A few leaders just needed a stern talking-to, but there were some I'd have to get rid of entirely. And carefully. They had friends. Diplomacy was a game I'd only begun to play when I started as Champion, but by the end, I'd become quite adept at it.

First was Brawly's Gym in Dewford. I put a stop to the gambling taking place there, and not long after, Brawly's dojo gained a national reputation as a world-class training facility. Brawly told me later that it was my influence that had motivated him to clean up his act.

"No one ever really seemed to care before," he told me after I ordered the gambling to stop. "When Steven was champ, he didn't mind at all. But I see why it has to end."

" _Wally," I say into the mic. "Good to see you again. Ready for another battle?" I'm tired of this. Why won't he stop challenging me? Every month he tries, and every month he fails. Never says a word. Just comes at me again, full force. And every time he's a little stronger. This is what… twelve now? A year? He's got more resolve than I thought._

Steven Stone. The former Champion I'd narrowly defeated to claim my throne. His dereliction of duty escaped comparison—no Gym inspections in three years, no updates to training standards or the Hoenn Pokedex despite numerous advances in the field, no changes to the Elite Four lineup since he took the crown… Steven focused all his energy on himself, and the League suffered for it.

Speaking of Steven, I did see him again after our battle, but only once. It was about four months into my stint, and I was on the first of many regional Gym surveys. We—being myself, my personal assistant May, and my best friend Taylor—landed in Mossdeep. I remember dismounting my Dodrio with an eye on the sky, thinking that it looked like a storm was on its way. That certainly turned out to be true.

We stopped by the local watering hole—a dive called The Mossy Rock—for some lunch. And there he was, sitting at the bar. Steven goddamn Stone. Drunk at noon. His hair and suit, once perfectly kept, were disheveled, unwashed messes. He met my gaze from across the room as we were shown to our table, and I'll never forget that look: it was a mania I've seen in the eyes of only one other since, a boy whose fate would forever alter my own. But I get ahead of myself. Steven glared at me with the intensity of a Camerupt's belly, and then swiveled back into his whiskey.

"Go ahead," I told Taylor and May. "I'll catch up." I crossed the room with quick, confident strides, letting my violet cape—hey, if Lance could pull it off, why not me?—billow out behind me. I took the stool beside Steven and hailed the bartender. "Rum and coke," I said. "And another of whatever my friend is having." I thumbed toward the silver-haired man beside me. The bartender raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as he fetched the drinks. They arrived a minute later, and I sipped mine quietly.

Steven eyed the fresh glass of whiskey on the counter before him. "I don't need your pity," he grunted halfheartedly, but he picked up the new glass anyway.

"You don't have it. Merely a courtesy—as two Champion-level trainers, I would hope we could have at least that between us." Gods, I felt so grown-up. I was being a _way_ bigger person.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, then took another sip.

"Inspecting the Gym. I'm hitting all of them this month. Something it seems like you quit doing a while ago." I inspected my fingernails. "I'm going to clean up Hoenn's Gym system. Get rid of the corruption."

"You could've been rich, you know." He finally rotated to face me. His breath smelled of alcohol. "I was very generous."

I narrowed my eyes. "It was never about money for me. Or fame." A momentary jolt of pain through my heart as I thought of my mother's eyes. "It was about keeping a promise."

"Tch. Promises." He took a swig. "I made a promise to myself once, a long time ago." A distant look. "I swore I'd be the very best. Like no one ever was." Steven eyed me meaningfully. "Sound familiar?"

I faltered. _How could he know…?_

"You obviously made yourself the same promise. It was written all over your face when we battled." Steven sighed, and turned back to the bar. "Now that you have what you wanted, ask yourself: was it worth it?"

Another verbal blow. I hesitated one, two, three, four, five agonizing seconds. "Yes," I finally said, but my voice shook with uncertainty.

Steven scoffed. "You destroyed me, Lidya Pine. My reputation. My position. My fame and glory. You took all of that. And I won't forget it." He paused meaningfully. "Now leave me alone."

I took my drink and fled, feeling shaken. His bitterness was a foul taste in my mouth.

 _Wally says nothing as he throws his first Pokéball into the ring. Altaria. I reply with Ms. Splish. A blizzard handles the bird easily. Wally is silent, does not react. I can feel my heart beating faster and harder in my chest. He sends out another—his Skitty. Lacking a fighter—rest well, Hotwings—I settle for Polaris. Paralysis and a few bolts are all it takes._

I didn't stop with Brawly. Plenty more needed to be done.

Wattson, that lunatic, was "encouraged" to retire, and eventually did so. His replacement was a young up-and-coming musician from the Mauville Game Corner named Alexis, and I couldn't have been happier with the singer's performance.

Roxanne, my former mentor, decided enough was enough. She'd watched me clamber from the humblest of beginnings to the Champion's summit, and I think her envy kept pace with her competitive spirit. She took a sabbatical from her role as Gym Leader in Rustboro and began traveling Hoenn. I'd get a picture or a postcard now and then—"Me and Nosepass on the beach in Slateport!", "Just picked up the Heat Badge!"—until, one day, her name appeared on the Challenger docket.

Our battle was a good one, but she lost. I could see in her eyes at coffee afterward that she'd known she would.

"You surpassed me a long time ago. I don't know why I thought that would've changed," Roxanne mourned, her melancholy no less painful for being expected.

"Roxy," I said gently, smiling and taking her hand, "you're an _incredible_ trainer. Don't ever beat yourself up about that."

"Thanks Lidya… but I just… I dunno if I can go back to Rustboro now. Taking back the old Gym feels like giving up everything I just worked to earn, y'know?"

I pondered her situation… and there it was. A beautiful solution. "Roxy… how would you like a new job?"

Roxanne replaced Drake as a member of the Elite Four. The old man, talented though he was, had been itching to retire for ages, but Steven wouldn't let him, so he'd been stuck. Roxanne's tenure was sure to be a long and successful one.

As part of my effort to improve trainer competence across the board, I gave the Rustboro Gym to the Trainer School, on the condition that a few changes happen in the curriculum and teaching methods-more hands-on battle practice, for a start. Completing the Gym became the final exam to graduate, and a rotating roster of the school's best pupils served as Gym Leader. In this way, finishing school became a trainer's first step toward the League.

 _Wally readies his third Pokéball, and lets it fly. Roselia. I counter with Emily, my Camerupt. Next comes Magneton—same counter. Then Wally surprises me by letting out an Azurill. That's a new one. I return Polaris to the field, and Azurill is down quickly. I feel the usual sympathy for him at this point. Poor kid doesn't stand a- what is THAT?_

My father, Norman, proved a more difficult change to make. I swung by the Petalburg Gym on my grand tour, and found him in his apartment in the back, another half-dressed twenty-something there with him, making breakfast with her nipples showing. Thank Kyogre I'd asked Taylor to wait outside.

"Dad," I called irritatedly, and he came out to talk to me.

"Lidya," he replied, smiling and hugging me. I bristled. "What's new?"

"I've come to talk to you about your Gym," I answered, holding my head high and tossing my cape off my shoulder. "Things need to change."

He frowned slightly. "Things? Like what?"

I sighed. "You know what." He shook his head. _Don't play dumb with me_ , I thought. "Look, Dad," and here I lowered my voice, "I can't knowingly allow you to keep using illegal enhancers here. As the Champion, it's just… I can't overlook it." The smell of something like Full Heal wafted in from a neighboring training room just then, and I winced.

Dad began to offer excuses and backpedals immediately: "Oh, come now Lidya, those are just supplements! Nothing illegal about them. Why, I obtain everything from a legitimate shop over in Slateport! I don't see how—"

"Enough!" I snapped. My heart was beating like mad. Had I really just shouted down my father? "You can keep the drugs or keep the Gym. Not both."

He stared at me. "Lidya…"

"You heard me. Give me your answer." There was a long pause.

 _What in the hell is that Pokémon? It looks like a Gardevoir, but… something's off. Gardevoir don't stand like that, don't have those arm blades… what can it be? Some new evolutionary track? Flashbacks to my battle with Steven, two years before, begin to flicker in my eyes. What in the world can Wally be planning now? And the look of shock must be plain on my face, because Wally does something I haven't seen him do since we first met: he smiles._

Norman chose the drugs.

Mr. Alphonsus Briney became the Gym Leader, and for years afterward, trainers were heard to commiserate in low voices over the tables in the backs of Pokémon Centers across Hoenn, a single name on their lips and a look of terror and tribulation in their eyes: "Peeko".

I left the rest of the Gym Leaders alone. Flannery, Winona, Tate and Liza, and Wallace were all doing a solid job. I rewarded them for their dedication by increasing their budgets; each Gym gained at least double its previous number of resident trainers. I also doubled their paychecks. Never let it be said that I'm not generous.

 _Hesitatingly, I send out Ruby. His spines and thick skin should give me a chance to see… but it's not enough. Wally's Pokémon charges forward, delivers a powerful strike. It grips Ruby by the throat, hoisting the Sandslash into the air. I catch Wally's eyes—there is a deep satisfaction behind them. I know why. My darkest moment, back to haunt me. There is no doubt about what he will order his Pokémon to do._

My favorite part of being Champion, though, was the Champions' Summit. It happened twice a year in rotating locations. The first of my time took place in Hoenn, conveniently enough, and though inexperienced, I managed to stumble my way through it. Every ounce of my admittedly poor diplomatic skill had to be on display.

The meeting occurred in a special building in Ever Grande City, near the Pokémon League headquarters. The room's main feature was a huge circular table, at which places were set with name cards, notepads, bottled water, and small microphones. I was, naturally, the first to arrive, but not by much.

"You look familiar," Lance told me as he walked to his seat, his powerful gaze fixed right on my nervous face. "Have we met?"

"Dunno," I managed to squeak. This man was a hero, the famed Champion of Johto and a leader in Pokémon rights. Who the heck was I? Just the Champion of some backwater islands.

Other Champions, less known to me, trickled in. Blue, from Kanto. Cynthia, from Sinnoh. Alder, from Unova. Drake, from the Orange Archipelago. And Diantha, from a place I knew nothing about called Kalos. The day passed with surprisingly interesting discussions of national and international Pokémon policy. All the other Champions were extremely intrigued by my recent proclamations and new rules, but none felt it would be possible to adopt them in their own regions, at least not immediately. We were fed periodically throughout the day, the menu a dizzying whirlwind of exotic and luxurious foods I'd never eaten or even heard of. I found Kanto's cuisine too spicy, Sinnoh's too salty, and Unova's too oily. Kalos had the best by far, and I was already accustomed to Archipelago food thanks to my stay in rehab, a fact I discreetly kept to myself.

Once all was said and done, the Champions began to take their leave. Diantha, a ravishing beauty and apparently famous actress in her home region, cornered me on the way out. " _Bonjour_ , Lidya," she said, her accent enchanting though unplaceable, as she shook my hand. "I wanted to congratulate you again on your victory. Always a pleasure to welcome another _femme_ to the Champion's circle." She implored me to visit her one day in Kalos, and I swore I would.

But I never did so as Champion.

" _Stop!" I shout. "I forfeit!" The crowd, already holding its breath, gasps awkwardly, utterly stunned. Wally seems surprised too; he hesitates, the fierce hunger in his gaze a bit dampened. "By League rules, you must call your Pokémon back!" I am breathing hard. Ruby squirms in the not-Gardevoir's clutches. Despite my terror, I try to put as much force behind my next words as I can: "Stand down, Wally. You win."_

 _He stares back. I can see he is trying to decide what to do. Is it worth it to you, Wally? Will you take revenge, or the crown?_

 _He makes his choice._

* * *

Years later, they still hadn't cleaned up the ruins of Littleroot. I could see why as I walked what had once been Main Street: there was nothing left to recover. Empty concrete foundations with chunks of wood, rebar, and stone sticking out stood like checkerboard squares long cleared of their pieces. Piles of rubble lay haphazardly around the town's open spaces and paths. I had to navigate through several as I strolled, looking up at the empty sky, devoid tonight of stars thanks to a blanket of clouds. I spotted the site of Brendan's former home and made my way over, not wanting to find any remnant of my first lover's belongings, but secretly hoping I would all the same. The conflicted desires felt appropriate, given the events of the night.

Perhaps mercifully, there was nothing left to identify the Birch family home as such, other than my memory of its location. I stood on the foundation, studying the lower half of the house, now a rotting, overgrown monument resting in a heap beside me. Let's see… right about here would've been his room, but one floor up. A lot of things happened there. The first time someone who wasn't my mom saw me naked. The first time I saw a naked boy. My first… well, you get the idea. A special place, to be sure. I wandered on.

My old home was just as devastated as Brendan's. I'd spent only a handful of short, sweet weeks in that house, bonding with my mother. I had no memories, positive or negative, of my father here: for as long as we'd lived in Hoenn, I don't think he ever once came to the house he'd bought for us. I remembered, bitterly, catching my mother's hand beneath the water as I rode Rayne, trying desperately to save her. Both of them were dead now. The memories were too hard; my feet carried me away.

Here was the exact spot where Kyogre killed Brendan. I'd watched it happen from maybe a thirty meters above, when all of this was submerged. I rubbed the blue orb ring on my right hand uneasily. I'd never had the courage to call Kyogre up again, and I don't know if I ever will.

Here was the place where the old community center had stood. The last, most positive memory I had of Littleroot was the night I spent in that place. The Renewal Festival, with the extinguishing of the twelve candles and the recounting of tales from the year. The laughter and stories of my mother. The hour or so I spent with Brendan on the exercise mats afterward. All of it, all of them, gone now. Gone, gone, gone. Dead.

I lost track of time after that.

* * *

The world was quiet when I landed in Ever Grande a couple of hours later. Most lights were out. I quietly returned to my room, or, well, what used to be my room. Wally was the Champion now. I was moving out in the morning. But for the few remaining hours of the night, it was mine. I was about to get undressed for bed when I noticed a light on across the courtyard out my window. One sole, lonely light. I knew which room that was. I'd stayed there the night before I became the Champ. The night Steven Stone offered me millions to throw the fight. Wally would be there now, with the lights on. Was he awake? What was he thinking about?

I can't say for sure what drove me to do it, but I decided to pay him a visit. Yes, unorthodox, I know, but… since when have I been orthodox? Steven had visited me in the night. Why not keep the tradition going?

I shuffled back into my running shoes and jacket, leaving my pack on its hook in the closet. This would only take a few minutes; no need to bring Pokémon along.

Rule number one, everybody: _always_ bring Pokémon along.

Stealing silently through the empty halls of the League, I reflected on how familiar they'd become. How I'd probably never walk them again. I'd never considered what my life would be after I lost the crown. I guess I figured I'd wear it forever. How naïve.

After a few minutes, I arrived outside Room 316. The Challenger's suite. Wally's door was slightly ajar. Strange.

"Wally?" I called, giving it a little push. "It's Lidya." The door swung open, and I took a few tentative steps into the room. "Wally?"

He lay on his back on the bed, still fully clothed, his green dreads splayed out in the pillow like a Tangela. Only his shoes were off. At first I thought he was sleeping, but... something was wrong. I moved a bit closer, calling his name again softly, then firmly.

He did not stir. I walked right up to the side of the bed... and let out a shriek of horror.

Wally's jaw, lips, and lower face were a rotten purplish color. His eyes showed only white, with tiny strands of violet streaked across them like lightning. His skin was pale and clammy, his body stiff. A line of foamy, bloody spittle had dried in a long tendril from his mouth down onto the pillow.

Wally was dead.

I felt my heart beating on overdrive, my breathing a shallow rattle, my eyes swimming. No, no... How? How had this happened?

But of course, I knew. I knew because I'd almost died of the same thing. This was the work of Toxic poison. I could see the point of entry: a jagged gouge in the side of his throat, into the artery. The substance had undoubtedly reached his heart and brain in moments, killing him before he had time to get help.

I took a few steps back, still in shock, then leapt in the air when a shriek came from the hallway. A woman in a maid uniform stood near the door, pointing an accusing finger at me. "M-m-murder!" she cried. "Help! Murder!"

"No, I..." I started, but she ran off screaming, leaving me alone with the body. What to do?

 _Don't panic Lidya. You're innocent. How could they possibly accuse- ...oh shit._

This was no accident. She was right. Murder. The pieces suddenly fell into place before my eyes: Toxic poison from a Crobat fang, just like the one I wore around my neck. No alibi for tonight. Caught "in the act". Lost my crown to him just hours earlier.

 _Somebody set me up._

There was no way for me to beat this. If they found me here, I'd be done for sure. I tore out of the room, knocking over the cleaning woman's cart in the process, and went at a dead sprint back towards my quarters. If I could just get my Pokémon...

"Shit!" I cried aloud, for as I rounded a bend, I spotted a swarm of officers far down the hallway gathered at my door, knocking. Someone had tipped them off!

I backpedaled, ducking into an alcove. Where could I go? _Think, Lidya, think... Taylor!_

Her role as my assistant-assumed after May left a few months ago-meant she got to live in Ever Grande too. I ran madly to her room, far away on the other side of the League, and pounded the door, hissing, "Taaay!" in a half-whisper.

A groggy Taylor answered the door. Her mane of red hair was a mess of tangles. Her pajamas had little Oddish all over them. "Lidya? Wha timez it?"

"Let me in, please!" I said. She stood aside and I bustled in, closing the door quickly. "Tay, I'm sorry for doing this but I had no other choice. You're the only person I can trust right now."

"Trus with wha?" she mumbled, looking partially confused and partially sleepy.

"Wally's dead and the cops think I killed him but I didn't, I swear!" I felt panicky now, my normally controlled voice on edge. "What do I do?"

Taylor was staring at me with eyes growing wider and wider. "You... Wally... what?"

Rapidly, I explained how I'd come upon the body and been caught at the scene. Taylor fetched some water as I spoke, which I gulped down. When I was done, she gave me a blank look. "C'mon Tay! I need your help! I have to get out of Ever Grande!"

"Okay, okay. I'll help you. Hang on." She hurried to her bedroom, emerging a minute or so later in travel clothes. Her lone Pokéball was attached to a large belt around her waist, over a flowing green tunic. She wore black leggings and high brown boots. "Let's go." She started for the door.

A powerful knocking stopped her in her tracks.

"Police!" a hearty voice cried. "Open up!"

I pointed at the sliding glass door in the kitchen. "Hurry!"

We exited onto the small balcony, and Taylor released Speckles, her Pidgeot. The two of us climbed onto the bird's back. She let out a soft screech as Taylor adjusted the double saddle. "Where're we headed?"

I shifted forward in my seat, hugging Taylor around her hips, and uttered a name I hadn't spoken but a few times in the last two years: "Goldenrod."

* * *

I hardly recognized Cliff and Lana; they'd aged well and looked more adult than ever. The last time I'd seen them was two years ago, at my Championship match against Steven. Their presence had been a heartwarming reminder of the few friends I'd managed to hang on to, despite my slide into addiction. Taylor, another example, seemed taken with the pair.

"You're really a Gym Leader?" she asked Lana, awestruck.

"Goldenrod's finest!" Lana replied, pouring the two of us glasses of wine from a box on the counter. "Rock types, babe. They'll stomp ya every time."

"And Cliff, you're at the Pokémon Center now?" I asked.

Cliff took a sip of merlot and smiled at me. "Bingo. Nursing sick and injured Pokémon back to health, day in and day out."

I grinned, genuinely happy. Both Cliff and Lana had achieved their dreams. I felt even more grateful for their kindness; what did they need from a now-former Champion? They had what they wanted. Helping us was pure altruism.

"Turn on the news," Taylor said. We flopped onto the dingy couch—same one I'd sat upon four years prior, high on lava cookies—and began to watch. It was a few minutes before anything relevant came on.

"The investigation continues in the death of Wally Mitsuru, a recent challenger in the Hoenn Pokémon League. The victim had become the Pokémon Champion of the Hoenn region earlier in the day, and was found dead that evening in his hotel room in Ever Grande. Police are still seeking two suspects in connection with the case: Lidya Pine, the former Champion, and Taylor Gale, Ms. Pine's personal assistant. Both disappeared shortly after the victim was discovered." Our pictures were shown-recent headshots we'd had done for the new Pokémon League brochure I'd been working on. "Anyone with information regarding the whereabouts of these two suspects is encouraged to contact the Hoenn police de-". Cliff had switched it off.

Taylor and I met each other's gaze. So they knew, then. Both of us. "I'm sorry, Tay," I said. "I guess you're stuck with me."

She shrugged. "It's what I expected. Of course they'd notice when I left."

"What are you guys gonna do?" Cliff asked. "You can't go back to Hoenn now. They'll arrest you for sure."

"I guess…" I started, but broke off. What _were_ we going to do? Without my Pokémon, I was helpless in the face of anyone who had some. I could catch more, but I'd need to use black market Pokéballs to do it; legal ones would connect to my ID and give away my location. Plus any I did manage to find would be weak and undisciplined. Hardly even worth having in the face of an experienced trainer.

There was a long silence.

"We'll help you," Lana said definitively.

Taylor looked at her admiringly. "Just like that? You'd risk yourselves?"

"In a heartbeat," Cliff said. "No question."

"We look out for our friends," Lana chimed in.

"Thank you," I said. "But what should we do? We can't just stay in your apartment forever."

Cliff and Lana shared a look. "We'll come up with something," Lana said.

And we did. The rest of the day was filled with scheming and preparations for our new lives as fugitives. Our first step involved changing our looks. I almost cried as we shore off most of Taylor's big, beautiful red hair, leaving her with a pixie cut like mine. As for me, a bleach job left me brilliant blonde. I scarcely recognized myself in the mirror afterward. But there was more to be done: Taylor and I had to get new clothes. Lana was able to help us out with a few leftover articles, some of which fit me and some Taylor. I had to bid farewell to my old outfit with the exposed shoulder. As much as I loved it, anyone with even a cursory knowledge of my reputation would recognize me immediately. But I wouldn't be needing it anyway, thanks to step three: our new jobs.

Cliff was able to immediately secure a spot with the Pokémon Centers for Taylor, and thanks to Lana's status as Gym Leader, I was made a Gym Trainer at her rock-type Gym in downtown Goldenrod. "Hide in plain sight" was the driving idea here.

Our work began the following day. I said goodbye to Cliff and Taylor as they boarded their train for the Pokémon Center in the south of Goldenrod-one of three in the city-and started walking with Lana. My new Gym Trainer uniform was itchy and a little too tight.

"So I'll bet you can't wait to get back to fighting, huh?" Lana commented.

"Absolutely. It'll be so strange using someone else's Pokémon though."

"You'll warm up to Bigelow and Shardeen in no time."

I rolled my eyes. Not the most inspiring names, especially for rock types. I gently touched the two Pokéballs at my belt-Bigelow the Rhyhorn and Shardeen the Geodude. How would they fight with someone other than Lana in command?

We entered the Gym. It was early, still half an hour before the doors opened to challengers, but the joint was already bustling with activity. Gym Trainers hurried from place to place, restoring the rocky arenas of battle to their pristine state. Lana called out with a shrill whistle.

"Everyone! Gather up!" she hollered. A swarm of young trainers hurried over obediently.

"Good morning Leader Lana!" several said almost in unison.

"Good morning. Thank you all for being here. First item today: we have a new recruit. Everyone, say hello." Half a dozen pairs of eyes turned to me, and everyone greeted me cheerfully.

"Hi," I said. "I'm Sally. Sally Sequoia." I felt clever as heck for coming up with such a catchy fake name.

Lana gave me a raised eyebrow. "Oookay, well, _Sally_ is new to our Gym, but not to battling. Please help her feel welcome!" she barked. "Now! Today's assignments!" Lana proceeded to lay out where each trainer would be. I was given a spot near the front-one of the first a challenger would meet-and told to "do what you do best".

So I did.

* * *

"Lid… Sally. How's it been going?" We sat at a small table in Lana's office, unwrapping turkey subs from a deli next door.

"Great!" I replied happily. The sandwich smelled amazing, and I greedily bit in. "I can't believe how much I missed battling. And your Pokémon are really something!"

"That's good to hear. Been an awfully quiet day for me. Not one challenger for the badge!"

"Well, small wonder there. I've beaten everyone who walked through the door."

Lana looked mildly horrified. "Is that right?"

"It's cake, Lana. I can't believe some of these people. They come in here with goddamn Weedles and Pidgeottos and think they can hang." A bit of banana pepper fell out of my sandwich. I grabbed it and popped it in my mouth.. "Ohn guy hada Pichu. A _Pishoo_!"

"Huh." Lana appeared lost in thought for a minute as I finished off my sub and started in on the chips and soda. "Sally, do you mind if I watch your next battle?"

"Not at all. You need to see what kind of trash I've kept away from you." I smiled. "I mean, don't get me wrong. They're trying their best."

Lana laughed uneasily. "Yeah, I getcha."

We finished lunch and chatted about other things for a while. Cliff and Taylor were doing well; Lana had received a message from them. No problems. Lana promised me that she and I could visit the mall later for a shopping excursion with my first week's pay. After a time, Lana announced that our break was over, and accompanied me back to the front.

Just in time: a trainer was waiting to battle. He'd already cleaned out my temporary replacement, a snot-nosed kid with two Geodudes.

I waited in my assigned spot for the trainer to move into my view. Lana's instructions were very specific: face one direction and don't engage until they walk right in front of you. Why she insisted on this awkward form of battle initiation, I had no idea. But I dutifully waited until the challenger stumbled into my direct line of sight.

"Hold it!" I shouted. "If you aim to take on Leader Lana, you'll have to get through me first!" I ripped a Pokéball from my belt and hurled it into the small battle ring, shouting, "Go! Shardeen!"

The Geodude appeared in a flash. "Geo!" she cried.

The trainer, looking a bit bewildered, released a Rattata.

"A Rattata? You've got to be kidding me," I called. "Prepare to get stomped, kid. Shardeen, Mega Punch!" The stony ball wound up one of its chiseled fists and let loose a powerful swing. The Rattata didn't stand a chance; it was knocked clean out.

"Wha! My Rat-Rat!" the boy yelped. "How'd you do that?"

"Type matchup. Fighting beats normal," I explained. "Send out another!"

The boy let out a Pidgey. Shardeen downed it with Rock Throw. Next came a Pikachu, which I ordered Shardeen to eliminate with Magnitude. The ground shook beneath the yellow rat, sending it sprawling. His fourth and surprisingly final Pokémon was a Caterpie, which Shardeen easily took out with another Rock Throw.

"Best think twice before you set foot in here again, kid!" I jeered, good-naturedly but with firmness.

The boy, who'd begun to cry, slunk back to the front door and fled.

"Sally?" Lana called. "A word?"

I walked over, adrenaline pumping. "Good match, right? I taught him a thing or two."

"Well, sure, but… look, there's…" Lana seemed uncomfortable. "You have to ease off."

"Huh? You want me to go easy on them? But they're here to challenge the Gym! That's the whole point of having a Gym!"

"Right, I get that, but you don't understand. As a Gym Leader, my role is to make sure that trainers who come through here are _progressing_ appropriately." She put a hand on my arm. "That means they need to be at a certain level of skill-a level _lower_ than yours."

I gaped at her. "You're telling me to… throw the fight?"

"Look at it this way, Li- Sally. This Gym is the third on the list for almost every trainer. It's what our League guide tells them to do after they've beaten the first and second Gyms in Violet City and Azalea Town. You've noticed that no one is bringing evolved Pokémon in here, right?"

"Uh huh."

"They're not strong enough yet. It's just how things are. So I need you to back off a bit, okay? I don't mean, like, let them win, but…" She made a confused gesture. "You get what I'm saying?"

I grumbled, "Yeah, yeah." But I didn't. Why would we deliberately weaken ourselves just to let the trainers make progress? Wasn't the whole point of the Gym to provide a challenge? Why wouldn't we want _every_ Gym to be challenging?

I thought about my own experiences-the first Gym I ever took on was the one in Rustboro, with Roxanne, and it'd been quite an adequate hurdle for my relatively low-powered team. So… maybe Lana was right. But I didn't like it.

"Here comes another trainer," Lana said. "Let me see you battle again. Be nice."

I waited, pouting, until the trainer came into view. "Hold it there, lass!" I bellowed. "You'll need to fight me before you can think about taking on Leader Lana!"

"Yikes!" the girl yipped. She uneasily released an Chinchou. I was a bit startled to see a Hoenn Pokémon here in Johto.

"Well, at least she picked the right type," I mumbled to myself. "Go, Bigelow!" The Rhyhorn slammed into existence, roaring. The girl winced.

"Chinny, use **thunder** **wave**!"

I kept my mouth shut and ordered, "Bigelow, **horn** **attack**!" He rumbled forward and delivered a firm blow with his horn, which knocked over but did not badly hurt the Chinchou.

The girl shrieked. "Chinny!" Chinchou righted itself and put on a determined face. "Chin!" it shouted. "Chinny, use **thunder** **wave** again! Paralyze the foe!" Chinchou released a wave of electric energy.

I slapped my hand against my forehead. "Bigelow, use **harden**." Bigelow hunkered down as the crackling light rolled harmlessly off its stony flesh.

"Chinny, you can do it! **Thunder** **wave**!"

"For fuck's sake, stop!" I snapped loudly. Several other trainers in the Gym stopped what they were doing and turned to watch. "Why the hell do you keep doing that? What's the matter with you?"

The girl looked like I'd just slapped her in the face. "Wha... what did you say?"

"Ground types are _immune_ to electricity! Come _on_! Did you not learn _anything_ on your way here?"

Wordlessly, the girl began to cry. She recalled her Chinchou, turned, and fled the Gym.

"Sally, a word in my office?" Lana said sternly.

"But I-"

" _Now_ , Sally."

One of the other gym trainers went _"ooooh"_.

The rest of the day found me doing landscaping work outside. Lana had cooled off a bit by the time we left for home, and of course I understood why she was upset-but what kind of bullshit was that with that trainer? People with skills that poor shouldn't be facing Gym Leaders, and if that meant breaking their spirits a little, it was worth it. They needed to learn, just as I had, and if I could teach them without them having to endure a Pokémon's death, so much the better.

We arrived home to find Cliff and Taylor already there, happily cooking dinner together. Lana and I recounted the day's events, and by the end of the retelling all of us were laughing about it. No hard feelings. We ate dinner, played _regular_ poker, and watched some TV, cracking jokes all the while.

 _This is how it should've been the first time I came here_ , I thought. _This is what it's like to have real friends_. And for that evening, at least, I was optimistic. Maybe this could work. Maybe this was the life I'd always wanted, and I could finally have it. Maybe returning to Johto would turn out to be a good idea, and we could make a future here.

If nothing else, we had to try.

* * *

Six months went by. I missed my Pokémon terribly. Ruby, Juliet, Ms. Splish, Castform, Meg/Mog/Mo, Persephone, Emily… what had become of them? I had no idea. My best guess was that they'd been confiscated by the police and were being held in an evidence crate somewhere. Not exactly a great fate, but there was little I could do about it.

The police in Hoenn never caught up to us, nor did anyone else. We were completely off the radar. The news cycle had moved on ages ago-seemed like everyone thought the former Hoenn Champion had fled the country. Sure, my name was mud, but at least I wasn't dead or in prison. The span of our stay as fugitives in Goldenrod sort of blurs together in my memory now, but there were many bright spots, a few low moments, and a couple close calls.

Our routine continued as it had that first day. Taylor and Cliff took the train to one of the Pokémon Centers around Goldenrod, while Lana and I walked to her Gym. In six months time I'd built a pretty close bond with Shardeen and Bigelow, but per Lana's instructions, I allowed neither to evolve. Lana, meanwhile, faced perhaps half a dozen challengers every month-all trainers I'd let get past me after their second or third attempt at the Gym. I'd come to understand what Lana meant, and fit it into my own view of how Pokémon training should work: this Gym was a stepping stone, not a wall.

About three months into our time, Taylor and I took a trip together to Olivine. It was spectacular. The Eye of Olivine gleamed as we flew in on Speckles. We landed near the Pokémon Center and spent the day exploring the harbor market, enjoying the flag festival, climbing to the viewing platform at the Eye's base, and eating at restaurants I vaguely remembered from childhood. My old house still stood on a forested hill overlooking the town, occupied now by a new family, but I didn't have the nerve to go closer than the sidewalk out front. I also spotted Jasmine, the Gym Leader, at the marketplace. As much as I wanted to talk to her-I'd always idolized her as a kid-I knew it was unwise to risk any exposure, and skirted around her instead. Taylor and I flew home that night very content.

Another bittersweet highlight was the Court of Spirits festival in the National Park. Held once a year in November, people from all over the region come to honor the spirits of fallen Pokémon. The event takes place at night. All of us put on white, blank-faced masks representing our shared humanity, and process along a winding one-mile trail lit with candles. At the end, each person delivers a cash offering and lights an incense stick to mourn their dead. The cash is then donated to agencies that help injured, orphaned, or sick Pokémon.

Taylor, Cliff, and Lana joined me in this excursion, but none of them had lost even remotely as much as I had. When I pressed my incense stick into the sand of the shrine alongside hundreds of others, the names and faces of the departed flashed through my mind, twisting shadows on the back of my eyelids: Suzie, Noguri, Crystal, Tina, Brad, Breaker, Count, Serenity, Mom, Brendan, Rayne, and Hotwings. All gone.

Taylor gave me a big hug when we left the park and removed our masks. "I know that must've been hard for you," she said softly.

I brushed away a few tears. "Yeah, a bit."

She rubbed my back. "I'm glad I have you, Lidya."

"Me too." We held each other for a minute or so, and I felt a lot better.

My closest brush with danger happened four months into our stay. Lana and I were at the Gym as usual, sparring with the other trainers, when suddenly the front doors burst open and in walked-

"Lance!" someone shrieked.

"The Champion is here!" Lance bellowed cheerfully, whipping out his cape. "Time for a surprise inspection!"

"Trainers, assemble!" Lana hollered frantically. Everyone scrambled to return Pokémon, smooth uniforms, hide away lunch leftovers and cans of soda, and stop making out in dark corners-a frequent pastime of a select few of the trainers, much to Lana's chagrin.

Lance strode powerfully across the room and shook Lana's hand. "How are you, Lana?"

"Doing well sir. A bit startled to see you."

"Just how I like it. I want to see what kind of crew you've assembled. No better way than to catch you unawares."

"Undoubtedly, sir." I could hear in Lana's tone that she didn't mean it. All of us trainers lined up in a row, waiting at attention.

"All right folks," Lance explained, "this is a very simple process and it's not meant to be too scary. I want to ask each of you some questions, and then I'll have a short interview with your leader in her office. Sound okay?" Murmurs of agreement. "Let's start here."

I was third in line. Lance spent a minute or so conversing with the first trainer, then the second. I was sweating; what if he recognized me?

"You look familiar," Lance said as he studied my nervous face. "Have we met before?"

"I d-don't think so," I stammered.

"Huh. I could swear I've seen you someplace."

"Nope! I'm just a… just a humble trainer, is all. No plans to go anywhere you might be!" _You sound like a complete idiot, Lidya_.

"Well, what's your name?"

"Sally Sequoia."

"How long have you worked here?"

"Just a few months."

"And what Pokémon do you have?"

"I've got a Geodude and a Rhyhorn."

"Any future plans?"

"What do you mean?"

"After the gym. You planning to take the League challenge one day?"

"Oh. Um, I dunno. Maybe?"

Lance smiled. "Well, if you do, I wish you luck. Who knows? You just might be a Champion waiting to emerge!" He laughed.

I laughed too, awkwardly. "Yeah, haha! Definitely!" Then Lance mercifully moved on, and I let myself exhale. He kept stealing glances back at me, though. I was sure he knew he'd seen me before, but apparently he couldn't remember where, and he left without speaking to me again.

* * *

There are a lot more little moments like that, both good and bad, but the essential thing is that I was generally happy. My life had become what I'd always wanted it to be. At eighteen and a half years old, I'd finally found what I'd unknowingly started looking for when I left home at thirteen.

It couldn't last, though. Not when we were wanted criminals. Eventually the truth caught up to us, though not in a way or for a reason anyone could have anticipated.

The trouble began at breakfast. Normally we all took turns cooking, and today was Cliff's day. He liked to turn on the radio for Oak's Pokémon Talk-a dry chat program about various types of Pokémon-but that morning the broadcast was different. Instead of the usual insipid greeting from DJ Mary, we heard this: "Ahem! We are Team Rocket! After three years of preparation, we have risen again from the ashes! Giovanni! Can you hear? We did it! Where is our boss? Is he listening?" There was strange music playing in the background as this track looped over and over again.

Cliff, Lana, Taylor and I exchanged worried looks. "Team Rocket?" Taylor asked. "The gang? They're back?"

Cliff shook his head soberly. "They never really broke up. Whoever this is on the radio, they're pulling a stunt. It must be a diversion-Team Rocket has been operating here for years."

"So… what do we do?" Taylor continued.

Lana was wearing a grim expression. "Our road is obvious. Lidya knows."

"I do. We have to go investigate."

"What? Why?" Taylor gasped.

"As Gym Leader, it falls to me and my trainers to assist whenever something involving Pokémon goes awry in the city. It's part of the responsibility of having a Gym."

"She's right," I added. "You remember back in Hoenn when Team Magma got caught using numel to steal lava from Mt. Chimney and create their own artificial hot springs near Mauville? That investigation was headed up by Flannery and Alexis, the Lavaridge and Mauville Gym Leaders. They were handling it way before the news got out."

"But we can't go out there and risk exposure," Taylor protested.

"On that I agree," Lana said. "You two should stay here. I'll go, with my other gym trainers."

"But-" I started.

"Don't argue with me, Lidya! I know you. I know how eager you are to crack some skulls. But it's not worth the risk." She pointed at Cliff. "He's probably right about it being a diversion. We'll go over there, shake down a couple Rockets, and this will be over by lunch."

There was no further argument to make. I sat with Taylor as we watched Lana get ready and go. She promised she'd be home before dinner, and we settled in for a long day of waiting.

She wasn't home before dinner.

That evening, as we ate, the radio crackled to life with a new message: "Attention: Toxissa and redhead, please report to the Radio Tower! Toxissa and redhead to the Radio Tower, please! Team Rocket would very much like to speak to you! One of your pals is already here, so… hurry up!"

Taylor dropped her fork to her plate with a loud clatter. Cliff's eyes went wide. I felt the familiar hardening in my stomach that I got when I saw a clear but dangerous path ahead of me.

"Fucking hell," I growled. "They know I'm here, and they've got Lana." An obvious trap, but bait or not, I had to go. If Lana got hurt, I'd never forgive myself.

"They want me, too," Taylor said. "Both of us."

"We go together, then," I said.

"What about me?" asked Cliff.

"You stay here," I told him. "You don't have any Pokémon that can fight."

He looked on the verge of crying. "Yeah, okay… just… save her, okay?"

I was already up and putting on my jacket and shoes. "We will."

Taylor and I walked the fifteen or so blocks to the Radio Tower with trepidation. Using my old battle circuit name like that… someone knew I was here, in Goldenrod. Someone who'd known me back then. It could be almost anyone from Team Rocket, though: many of them had seen me fight. Yet I couldn't shake the feeling that I _knew_ the voice from the radio broadcast.

At last the Radio Tower came into view, looming behind police cordons, flashing lights, and yellow tape. I took Taylor's hand. "Hey," I whispered.

"Hey."

"I'm scared."

"Me too."

"We bust in, we get Lana, we get the hell out. Whatever else is happening in the tower is not our problem."

"I agree completely."

"Good." I squeezed her hand and let it go.

Sneaking into the Radio Tower past the barricades proved less challenging than expected. After circling the structure for a bit, we found one road that was mysteriously empty of police, and seized our opportunity. The darkness gave us cover as we hustled up to the four-story building at the tower's base and clambered in through hidden and open window, out of the police spotlights that otherwise lit up the whole place.

The jaws of the trap shut around us, and we were too reckless to notice.

Once inside what turned out to be a break room, Taylor and I drew Pokéballs from our belts and stalked into the hallway. The lights were out; the only glow came from the spotlights illuminating the windows, which we tried to stay away from. There was no one on the first floor that we could find, so we took the stairs to the second. I was reminded of the Weather Institute. Of a boy I met there, in its twisting halls. As Taylor and I peeked around corners-still finding no one-I thought of my first encounter with that boy: him standing guard, and me lunging from the shadows with the Crobat fang that still hung around my neck, threatening to poison him if he didn't tell me what was going on. It had all been so simple and innocent, our first two days together. Those rushed kisses as we huddled behind tables, waiting for Team Aqua to come and kill us. My first kisses.

"Lidya!" Taylor hissed, holding up a hand. "Listen!" Above us we heard a muffled cry, and some unintelligible shouting. "Is that her?"

"Let's go find out." We took the stairs to the third floor. Coming upon a wide, open office area, we saw no one initially, but then there was a figure, moving around in the murk just beyond the glow of the exit sign above the stairway door. "Hold it!" I shouted. "Show yourself!" Taylor remained a bit behind me and to the side.

"Come forward, Toxissa. Or should we drop the act and call you Lidya?" a voice-the same one from the radio earlier-said mockingly.

Rage filled me. "Don't play games with us. Where's Lana?"

"Lana is safe. She's right over here. If you come out from that stairwell, you can see her."

I glanced left and right, seeing only closed office doors on all sides. "I'm letting out my Rhyhorn. No tricks." I released Bigelow from his ball, causing a loud thud as he landed on the carpet ahead of me. "Bigelow," I said, petting him, "is keen to knock someone around."

"As you like."

"C'mon Tay." I urged Bigelow forward with a hand on his back. Taylor followed as we moved slowly into the center of the office space. "Okay, we're out. Now what?"

"Now, boys!" the voice hollered. Instantly the lights snapped on, blinding me, and the doors to the offices burst open. As soon as I could see again, I knew it was over. Rocket goons had emerged from every possible corner, sneering and holding Pokéballs. Each had released something into the room-Koffing, Zubat, Raticate, and Ekans. And in front of us, with a Houndoom at his side, stood the man who'd lured me here, who'd turned the tables on me just as I had on him so many years ago.

"I knew it!" I snarled.

"Hey babe. Nice to see you again," Axel smarmed. He wore a white slacks and shoes, a black belt, and a white v-neck shirt emblazoned with the bright red R emblem of Team Rocket. Lana, bound and gagged, was tied to a chair beside him. "And nice to finally meet you as well, Taylor."

"Who are you?" Taylor demanded. She clearly hadn't recognized him. I almost hadn't either-he looked so much more grown-up than the last time we'd met.

"Name's Axel. I'm surprised Lidya hasn't told you about me."

"I have," I muttered. "But your new hair and clothes kinda threw us off."

"I'm a Rocket Executive now," Axel said proudly. "Cleaned up my act a bit. Climbed the ranks. I'm a lot like you, in that way. And I guess I have you to thank for it, because after you left, I had no choice but to get my life together." He clasped his hands together and made a very small bow. "You have my gratitude."

"What's this about, Axel?" I demanded. "Why'd you call us out here?"

"Simple. I need the two of you."

"What for?"

"That's for me to know."

I pointed at Lana. "If that's true, then let her go. She has nothing to do with whatever weird revenge you've got planned."

Axel considered this a moment, then nodded. "I suppose you're right. The bait in the trap was effective; no need to waste it." He snapped his fingers and two grunts came hustling over. "Untie her and escort her out. Let her go free. No fuss." The thugs appeared startled by this order, but did not argue. They unbound Lana.

"Lidya!" she cried when her mouth was free. "Don't trust him!"

"It's fine, Lana. We can handle ourselves," I said calmly, but inside my guts were churning with fear. "You just get out of here. Don't look back."

Wordlessly, Lana was led to the stairs and away. I hoped the Rockets would keep their word about releasing her.

"Now that that's handled, let's take a walk, shall we?" Axel offered. "Put away that Rhyhorn and come with me."

I wasn't out of the fight yet. "Bigelow, **horn** **attack**!"

"Reaper, **counter**."

Bigelow charged, and Reaper absorbed the blow, sliding back on its clawed feet, which dug little grooves into the carpet. There was a second, then, of equilibrium, horn against horn, and then Reaper replied with a terrible slam and pounded into Bigelow, who flipped onto his back. He was still alive, but injured. Gasping, I recalled him. All eyes were on Reaper, who let out a triumphant howl, so in the moment of distraction I slipped Bigelow's Pokéball into my bra instead of onto my belt. Just in case.

"Don't try to pull that again," Axel grumbled as Reaper returned loyally to his side. "I didn't want to do this, but I see you're stubborn as always." He snapped his fingers. Grunts hurried out and handcuffed my hands behind my back, doing the same to Taylor. One of them swiped Shardeen's Pokéball from my belt. "Now, let's take that walk, hmm? Bawtle! Pokit! You're with us. The rest of you, continue to secure the tower. Hold your posts. I don't want _anyone_ getting in here." Axel led us to an elevator on the far wall, with two Rocket grunts-a boy and a girl both younger than me-on our heels. He swiped a keycard and the doors opened. We all stepped in. It was a little cramped. Axel swiped the card again and pressed a button labeled B.

"Why did Team Rocket take over the Radio Tower?" I asked. "Seems like a big effort just to get me to come out of hiding."

"Oh, that wasn't the reason," Axel explained. "We want our old boss to return. This seemed a fitting way to welcome him home. Catching you was just a perk."

"Tch. Giovanni is long gone. He's probably in a cabana somewhere in the Orange Archipelago, sipping a mai tai."

"Possibly. But he probably also watches the news." Axel smirked at me. "Any other questions?" The elevator stopped and we exited into a familiar space: the Goldenrod Underground.

"How did you know I was in Goldenrod?"

Axel chuckled. "That's the best party, Liddy: I didn't. I just had a hunch that if you were in Johto anywhere, you'd come hustling over to save the day." He gave me a knowing look. "You never could resist a chance to show off."

I scowled. "You don't know me."

"Where are you taking us?" Taylor cut in. We were in a new section of the Underground that I hadn't seen before-must've been constructed after I left, since I'd known every nook and corner in there previously. Bawtle and Pokit tailed along behind us, looking eager to please.

"To my bosses. As you can imagine, Team Rocket knows all about you. My higher-ups were _very_ interested to meet you, and when they find out I've captured you, well…" Axel trailed off as he led us around turn after turn.

After a time, we stopped before another keycard door. "You two," he said, pointing at Bawtle and Pokit, "head on back to the tower. I can take them from here."

Eyebrows went up. "You sure boss?"

"Get moving." The two hurried away. "Now then," Axel said, "let's continue." He brought us through the keycard door and to another elevator a few turns later. I thought about bolting, but Reaper still trotted along beside us, its body radiating heat and dark energy, and I knew it wouldn't allow us to escape.

"So once your bosses have us, what then? What do they want with us?" I demanded as we boarded the elevator.

"My bosses… heh." Axel replied. "My bosses want to put you in prison."

"Huh?"

"For running and manufacturing drugs, Lidya. For illegal Pokémon battling. And for murder. Once they have you, I'll be free and clear. My whole record, wiped clean." His voice was full of hunger, as if describing a delicious meal.

"The fuck are you talking about?" I blurted out. Then the elevator doors opened, and suddenly it all made sense.

We were in the Goldenrod Police Department.

* * *

Axel, as it turned out, had taken on a new career path: undercover cop. After I left, he continued with the Rockets, but got caught. The police granted him amnesty if he'd stay in the organization as a double agent, and he agreed. He told us all this as he walked Taylor and I to separate interrogation rooms. I lost sight of Taylor as she vanished into one, and Axel pushed me into the other, saying it was about time I answered for what I'd done. "Get fucked, asshole!" I'd shouted as he left.

Now I sat handcuffed to a chair, waiting to be "processed". An older male cop with generous whiskers studied some paperwork, then my face, then the paperwork again. "You seem awfully young to be a notorious criminal!" he blubbed. "Not sure they've got the right young lady with _this_ rap sheet."

Desperate and unable to think of a better plan, I turned on the waterworks. "Oh, please! I'm innocent! I don't know why they arrested me-I'm not whoever you think I am! Please, please, let me go!" I tried to look and sound as young as possible.

"Hey now, little lady, don't cry. I'm sure we'll get this all sorted out." The officer drew a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it, then seemed to remember my hands were bound and held it against my nose. Like a child, I blew into it, feeling sick to my stomach at being treated so condescendingly. He used another part of the cloth to dab my tears. "Listen, why don't we start with your name?"

"Sally," I told him. "I'm Sally."

"Sally, huh? Well now, that's not what's written on my forms here."

"I know! I'm not whoever they think I am. I'm just a girl! I was just walking on the street near the Radio Tower and a cop grabbed me!" An idea struck me then-again, desperate and unlikely to work, but I had to try. "Please mister, I've got to use the toilet. Can I go use the toilet?"

He wiggled his jowls. "Well, I mean… yes, I suppose you can. I'll walk you." He unclipped my cuffs from the chair and led me into the hall. We walked past the room they'd put Taylor into, and I could see her inside, looking pale and wide-eyed as an officer talked to her. My officer stopped before a women's restroom and had me turn around. "Now no funny business," he said as he undid my handcuffs. He checked my belt, assured that there were no Pokéballs on it. "Take care of what you've gotta do, then come right back out."

"Th-thank you," I exhaled. Once in the bathroom, I quickly checked for anyone in the stalls, then slipped into one myself. I couldn't believe my plan had worked-Goldenrod's finest had let a dangerous criminal out of her handcuffs, and oh, what's that? They didn't confiscate all her Pokéballs either? _This'll be all over the news tomorrow_ , I thought as I drew Bigelow's ball from its warm spot next to my left breast. _Gotta make this count_. I had only one short window of surprise in which to operate. I quickly reviewed my slapdash plan, then took a deep breath and released Bigelow. A massive _clunk_ shook the room as the Rhyhorn appeared, smashing through one of the sinks with his bulk. I scampered up onto his back. "Bigelow, I need you to bust some walls for me. Think you can do that?"

"Rhy!" Bigelow grunted. "Rhyhorn, horn!"

"Sounds good buddy. **Horn** **attack** on that wall!" We charged. Bigelow exploded through the plaster and tile and wood, showering me with debris, and suddenly we were in the hallway. I saw the whiskered officer who'd been interrogating me stumble back, stunned. "That one now!" Bigelow charged again and burst through the wall of Taylor's interrogation room. She and her officer both fell over in their chairs. "Unlock her, or my Rhyhorn will stomp you!" I ordered. The cop scrambled across the floor and clumsily unlocked Taylor's handcuffs. I reached out a hand, and she frantically climbed aboard. "Now Bigelow, let's go!" I used my hands on his neck to guide him as we turned around, charged back into the hall, hung a right, and made our way to the stairs. Bigelow bounded down them at a full run, barely managing to turn the corner on the landing. He carried us down a second flight and into the report writing room, where several officers sat at desks doing paperwork. We barreled through, knocking aside heavy furniture like toys and scattering objects in all directions. All I knew was that we were on the first floor, so I kept urging him forward, keeping my head down to avoid getting smacked with debris, until suddenly we slammed through a wall. Painfully large chunks of brick struck Taylor and me as we exited into the night. I kicked Bigelow on as he carried us away down block after block, until Goldenrod itself was behind us and we were on a far-flung surface street leading into the countryside.

* * *

And so began our life on the run. Taylor's Pidgeot Speckles was still in the evidence locker back at the station, so we had no choice but to ride Bigelow on and on, seeking anywhere we could hide from the inevitable police pursuit. We left Goldenrod to the east but hooked south, into the Ilex Forest. Taylor and I dismounted Bigelow once we were many miles from the city, and continued through the dark woods on foot. It was slow going with only the light from the stars and moon to guide us. Terror pumped through my heart, and every shadow was an angry cop charging forward.

Eventually we stumbled upon a small wooden shrine in a clearing. I didn't know what it was, but Taylor recognized it immediately: an homage to Celebi, the forest's protector. There was a book of matches and a packet of incense stashed in a box on the shrine's side, so she lit one and sent up a prayer for aid. Then it started raining. We sat under the shrine where it was dry, hugging our knees and waiting, waiting, waiting.

"Lidya, I'm really scared," Taylor said. "What're we gonna do?"

"We can't go back to Goldenrod now," I replied. "Axel knows we're involved with Lana." Poor Lana and Cliff. I tried not to think too hard about the trouble they'd be in if Axel went after them. Him, a cop? Still hard to believe, but he'd taken us to the station, so what other answer was there?

"So what can we do?"

"Run away, I guess."

"Where?"

"I dunno Tay." We stared into the darkness. "But we'll stay together, okay?"

Taylor took my hand. "Yes. Together."

"As soon as this rain stops, we'll move on. There has to be _somewhere_ in Johto we can be safe from the police."

Turned out there wasn't.

Hours passed before the rain let up. We both fell asleep huddled together there in the dark beneath the shrine. When we awoke at dawn, there were two bowls of steaming porridge on the platform over our heads, just inside the little shrine doors. I was flabbergasted, but Taylor appeared unphased. "Celebi has chosen to aid us," she said quietly as we took down the bowls and dug in.

"How did you know to do that?" I asked.

"When I was in this forest last time, I did the same thing. Celebi didn't appear then, but someone I met said it brings aid only in times of desperate need. Guess we were desperate enough this time."

After breakfast we fled south through the woods until we reached Azalea Town. Taylor explained that she'd been through here before, back when she was searching for me, and had friends here. But the house she guided us to was presently empty; she said a kind old couple had once occupied it and had helped her on her journey. We broke in-she said they wouldn't mind-and spent the day in their home, trying to rest as much as we could. They were clearly just on vacation. We _lightly_ looted their pantry, taking only enough food for a couple days, and their closets, taking only an article or two each to keep warm. That night we left on Bigelow, unnerved by the cops we'd seen wandering past on the street earlier in the day.

We took the forested part of Route 33 north to Union Cave. Bigelow's rocky feet allowed him to climb over the top of the cave, saving us from a perilous journey through its depths. Our next leg of the journey was Route 32 past the Ruins of Alph. It was nearly dawn again when we got there, so we opted to camp in the most complete section of ruins we could find.

Taylor and I slept in shifts, already beginning to adjust to a daytime sleep schedule. During my hours I watched the ruins below the room we'd chosen through a little window, nervous. Would the police find us here? What could we hope to do against them? We wouldn't get another chance like we had at the station-that escape had only worked because they'd underestimated us. Not likely to make that mistake twice.

A flurry of black Pokémon drifted into view on the dusty ground below-Unown, the mostly-harmless denizens of these ruins. Found nowhere else in the world, Unown are strange creatures with one eye and a body shaped like a letter of the alphabet. Some say our alphabet was actually based on them, rather than the other way around. I was too tired and tense to speculate. The ones on the soil below me began spelling random words: PALACE, OCEANIC, ERASE, SLURP, REDEMPTION, GLIMMER, FLARE. At one point I could've sworn they spelled BIRCH, but when I looked again it was gone.

The next night we took off again, arriving in Violet City after midnight.

"This time I'm _sure_ someone will be there to help us," Taylor insisted as we walked quietly through the empty streets. She guided me to a huge wooden tower on the outskirts of town. When we knocked on the door it was opened immediately, as if someone had been standing behind it, waiting. A stern-looking older man in deep blue robes stood there, giving us a sour expression.

"Who comes to Sprout Tower so late in the night?" he asked.

Taylor performed a strange bow: she put her arms out and wiggled her hips and body side to side as she bent over. "Sage Nico, it is I, Taylor Gale. I wish to speak with Elder Li as soon as possible."

Nico's eyes brightened. "Ah, Miss Gale, our savior! I did not recognize you. A thousand apologies! Please, come in, come in. I will go awaken the Elder at once; I'm sure he will be eager to see you." We were ushered into a small, plainly furnished sitting area just inside the temple's doors. Nico hurried off, assuring us that he would be back soon.

I stared at Taylor with wide eyes as we took seats on a wooden bench. When she caught me looking, she gave me a little smirk. "What did you _do_?" I asked.

"I visited this tower very early in my journey," Taylor explained. "Back then all I had was my Totodile-you remember, the one I released? Caramel?-and Speckles, who was just a Pidgey then. I wanted to learn how to be a trainer from the sages here and came back day after day, asking for help and guidance. It was before the Pokémon school opened, so they were the only ones who could train trainers. But they always refused me. Dunno why. Then one day while I was here on the first floor doing the necessary offerings and prayers to try to win their favor, a fire broke out on one of the upper floors. No other trainers were here to help, so Caramel, Speckles, and I put it out, saving the tower and life of Elder Li in the process. After that, the sages trained me and said I was welcome any time-that they owed me a great, unpayable debt. Seems they didn't forget!"

"Wow. That's so… cool!" I sighed.

Taylor giggled. "Guess you're not the only hero anymore!"

Sage Nico returned with another man, this one ancient. His white beard and hair hung over robes of blue and gold. "Miss Gale," he said in a raspy voice, "how good it is to see you again after so many years. What is it that brings you to Sprout Tower?"

Taylor explained that she and her friend had gotten "in trouble" and needed a place to stay for a while. I saw her bow several times in that same weird way, with arms out, wiggling hips and shoulders, and more than once she spoke words in a language I didn't know. Eventually an accord was reached: because of their great debt to her, they would allow her and me to stay. But we had to live in a small shack outside the tower, as women were not allowed to reside in this all-male space, and we would have to work for them as maids and gardeners, as our "unnamed crimes taint the divine purposes of this holy place". It wasn't the ideal outcome, but it was far better than nothing.

Taylor and I lived with the sages for a month. Six days per week we would don our crimson robes-the female color in the sages' religion-and our sandals and work sunup to sundown pulling weeds, planting, landscaping, scrubbing floors, washing windows, painting, dusting, tidying, arranging books and scrolls in the library, washing clothes, ironing ceremonial robes, cooking, cleaning up after meals… the list of chores never ended. The sages ate a vegetarian diet and spent most of their time in prayer, meditation, quiet conversation, or ritual dance with their Pokémon of choice: Bellsprout. Guests came to the tower often, mostly young trainers or other sages from distant places. We were not permitted to converse and had to serve tea with our eyes down-a bit demeaning, but not intolerable. I quickly learned how to do the proper bow, which was an imitation of Bellsprout's dance.

It was a hard four weeks, but not entirely unpleasant. We were fed well, and our accommodations, though plain, where comfortable. Having constant work kept my mind from wandering to dark places. The labor became a sort of meditation, and I would go for hours without speaking, without really even thinking. Better, I think, than living with constant fear.

But soon the hour arrived for us to go: the police were sniffing around in Violet City, and Elder Li explained that the risk for the monks was too great. We packed whatever we could scrounge from our quarters and left in the night, traveling east to Dark Cave, then south onto Route 30 to Cherrygrove City. Taylor had been there before as well, but knew no one in town, so after a day spent hiding on a cliff overlooking Cherry Lake, we left that night and continued east on Route 29 to New Bark.

* * *

"Professor! Professor Elm!" Taylor hissed. We were huddled just below the window to his lab, peeking in. "Hey! Professor!"

A thin man with light brown hair and glasses came over and opened the window. "Excuse me? Can I help you?" he asked, looking down at us.

"Professor… it's me, Taylor Gale."

He blinked. "Taylor?"

"Do you remember me? From about… gods, how long was it? Three and a half years ago? You gave me a Totodile."

Professor Elm took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Oh, yes. Yes, I remember now. Taylor. What can I do for you?"

"We're in a bind. Can we come in?"

He looked back over his shoulder. "I'm afraid not."

"What? Why?"

"I remember you, Taylor. And I remember the news report I heard recently: that you and your friend were spotted in Goldenrod. There's a huge manhunt on for you now. So if I were you, I'd get out of Johto as fast as possible."

"But Professor-"

"Sorry Taylor. I can't risk it." He closed the window. Dejected, the two of us slumped back against the wall and sat down.

"Now what're we gonna do?" Taylor groaned. "I was sure he'd help us."

"Excuse me?" a woman called. She was standing at the end of the alleyway, watching us. "You two are in trouble, right? You need help?" She beckoned with her hand. "Come to my house."

Taylor rose to go, but I grabbed her sleeve. "Wait," I whispered. "Do you know her?"

"No, but… it's okay. I think we can trust her." I followed uneasily Taylor as the woman led us to a nearby home. We took off our shoes as we went in and sat down around a table in the kitchen.

"I overheard you talking to Professor Elm," she explained. "My name is Kini."

"I'm Taylor, and this is Lidya. As you probably heard, we're in a bit of trouble."

"Yes, yes. Well, I want to help you."

"Why?" I asked, a bit sharply. "What's in it for you?"

She looked nonplussed. "I know you may not trust me, but I know you, Taylor."

Taylor looked startled. "Me?"

"I have a son named Gold?"

Taylor began to nod slowly. "Ah… you're Gold's mom. It makes sense now."

"What makes sense?" I cut in.

"When I first started on my Pokémon journey to find you, I was here in New Bark Town," Taylor explained. "Professor Elm gave me a Totodile, and-"

"Why?" I interrupted.

"Why what?"

"Why would he give you one? You don't live in Johto."

"Right, I'm getting to that." Kini poured us cups of black tea. I drank mine before it was cool and burned my tongue, but damn if a hot drink didn't taste good after fleeing the police for two days. "I was here in New Bark because it's the only place new trainers can get a trainer ID-you have to talk to the Professor. Anyway, I was out looking at Route 29 to see where I would go next when I heard a cry. I found a boy with his Cyndaquil. Cyndaquil was bleeding and injured, and as a nurse I knew what to do to stabilize it. I healed it up and he went on his way… guess he told you about it, huh?"

Kini smiled lovingly. "He said a beautiful woman with red hair came and saved his Pokémon. Said she was like an angel. I got him to tell me your name, Taylor. And I told Gold if he ever saw you again, he needed to bring you home to meet me. But he never did."

Taylor shook her head. "Right. Professor Elm saw what'd happened and gave me a Totodile that same day. I left in the afternoon and went to Cherrygrove."

"Gold left home a year ago," Kini added. "But you were long gone by then, I think."

I put my hands up. "Well… sheesh. Once again, you're a hero, Tay."

Taylor beamed. "I just do what I can!"

Kini set us up with a hot meal and beds for the night. The next day she told us to wait at the house while she went shopping, so we did, a bit uneasily. Was she planning to betray us? But no: when she returned, she was laden with extensive gear. Kini had bought us a tent, sleeping bags, backpacks, clothes, other camp items, and plenty of food. We thanked her profusely, but she waved it all off, saying it was the least she could do for Taylor helping Gold's Cyndaquil. She told us she'd used money from his savings account-"I'm sure he would want it spent this way"-and was more than happy to give us a little spending money as well.

We stayed one more night, but the next day the police were wandering around town, so we bid Kini farewell that night and set out to the east. We avoided Tohjo Falls by using Bigelow to climb the rocky cliffs, then continued along Route 27 and out of the region.

It was the first time I'd ever been to a land other than Johto and Hoenn. There was no real border to speak of, just a signpost informing us that we were entering Kanto. But it _felt_ special. Everything was new on this side of the country. The air smelled different. The trees were different: more pines, fewer leafy green boughs. Even the stones and dirt looked different, somehow.

"We're in uncharted territory," I commented to Taylor.

"Here be dragons!" she growled back playfully. Traveling only at night with flickering shadows everywhere we looked and one measly Pokémon for protection, I could only hope her words wouldn't prove true.

* * *

Route 26 was a steady ascent toward Indigo Plateau, with Mt. Silver gleaming white in the distance to the west-though we saw little more than a silhouette in the moonlight. We climbed switchback upon switchback, our packs weighing us down, but I was glad to have the gear and the rations. We could live for quite a while on what Kini had packed for us. We traveled only at night, as before, and in no time we were back on our familiar inverted sleep schedule. It took two days to ascend Route 26 to the marked four-way junction with Routes 28, 23, and 22. From there it was another two days east on Route 22 to Viridian City.

Neither Taylor nor I knew what to do after reaching the city, short of getting as far away from Johto as possible, so we kept to the shadows, camping in a clearing in a patch of forest on the west side of town. We stayed three days-"nights" for us-there, going into town only during less busy hours and trying to formulate a plan.

Life on the run had hardened us. Taylor and I were both thinner and more muscular than we'd been even during our time in Goldenrod, and definitely more so than we were during our rather cushy life in Ever Grande, what felt like an eternity ago. Looking at us, it was easy for anyone to see we were not getting adequate sleep, food, or showers. But we did the best we could.

A lucky break on the fourth day got us moving again: someone had left their backpack behind on a bench in a park. After watching it for about half an hour, I decided no one was coming back for it and scooped it. I pilfered all the cash inside, as well as a map of Kanto, and left the rest of the stuff in the bag, which I returned to the bench. Now with map in hand, we could attempt the plan we'd decided would provide our best chance of escape: take to the sea. The nearest large port was Vermillion City.

We followed a trail north out of town into and through Viridian Forest, which took a day, and then entered Diglett's Cave. Taylor's skill with utilizing our scarce Pokémon healing resources allowed Bigelow to get us through the endless dark twists of that deep maze, fighting off Digletts and the occasional Dugtrio, until at last, after four days of trudging through endless, monotonous blackness, we emerged just west of Vermillion City, the primary port in Kanto. Our final move, after spending a day recuperating from our trip, was to stow away on a ship headed out of the region.

Easier said than done. We tried posing as tourists who'd left our tickets on board the S.S. Anne, but the guards at the gangplank weren't having it. Our second attempt at subterfuge met with equal failure: we tried pretending to be researchers boarding the scientific vessel S.S. Voltorb, but were quickly booted off when they realized we didn't know anything about marine biology. Our last attempt-climbing aboard a freighter named the S.S. Whippet during the night when the guards weren't looking-worked, and we settled down into the depths of the hold to wait it out.

The massive cargo ship took to sea the next day, sailing first southwest out of Vermillion Inlet, then hooking east along the coast of Kanto before breaking away into open ocean. I'd spent weeks surfing on Pokémon, so my stomach was a bit tougher than most, but poor Taylor felt pretty queasy for the first day or so. We kept ourselves out of sight, sneaking into the areas where the crew worked only to use the bathroom. Two days went by down in the hold, and we thought maybe we'd gotten away with stealing passage.

But then, of course, we got caught.

"Stowaways!" the salty old captain bellowed as we were dragged before him on the bridge. "Do you know what we do to stowaways?" His eyes gleamed with malice, his jaw set in a fierce snarl.

"N-no," Taylor stuttered. "What?"

"We throw 'em a party!"

I stared at him. "...really?"

"No! Of course not! We throw 'em overboard!"

"Oh." As if to make the point, the captain's men threw our backpacks off the ship right behind him, in full view. Bye bye, Kini's supplies. Good while they lasted.

"Normally we'd toss you into the sea without a second look," the Captain groused, "but the fact is, our crew is a bit short at the moment. So if you two can work, I'll trade your labor for your passage. We'll even feed you, a little."

"We can work!" Taylor exclaimed. "We're good at that."

"Fine, fine. You start immediately, and I don't want to hear any complaints from or about you!" He ordered another sailor to take us to the galley and get us settled.

Much like the month we'd spent with the monks, the next three weeks were a blur of endless chores: sweeping, mopping, cooking, cleaning, mending, washing, and always we were leered at, taunted, and propositioned to, by male and female sailors alike. Thank gods nothing worse than talk ever happened to either of us, but things were bad enough even without assault added to the list. We felt and were treated like slaves, and lived with a constant danger of death hanging over our heads. Several times the captain threatened us with a watery grave if we didn't labor faster or more effectively. He was also very clear about what would happen once we got to our destination: he'd be taking us to immigration, because clearly we were leaving Kanto for a reason, and though he didn't care what the reason was, he also didn't need any trouble with customs that might arise if they found out he'd "smuggled" people into the country.

This, fortunately, proved key to our escape.

Though the crew scarcely interacted with us beyond giving orders, we did learn a couple important facts: one, that our destination wanted people with useful skills, two, that the ship and its crew were from Unova, and three, that Unovans _love_ Rhyhorn racing. It was almost all they ever talked about and the only thing they ever watched in the break room when not on duty. The sport is as it sounds: riders mount Rhyhorn and race them around rugged, looping tracks. Apparently it's quite a lucrative field in Unova, but Taylor and I had never heard of it before the voyage.

We used this new knowledge to our advantage, creating a cover story that we felt could get us safely through the coming trial of the immigration queue. It was a risk, but one we had to take.

When at last we saw land again, it was a new and foreign shore: Kalos, a place far, far removed from Johto, Kanto, and Hoenn. The ship docked in a city called Ambrette, and as promised, the first thing the captain did was drag us to the immigration office right there on the docks. "Picked up these two stowaways in Kanto," he grumbled. "They're your problem now." Without another word, he stomped off. Good riddance.

The immigration office, as it turned out, was actually pretty nice. They gave us tea and cookies while we waited in the lobby. I snuck peeks at the others there: most were just as disheveled-looking as us. Weeks of poor eating and constant labor had made Taylor and I wiry and bony, our hair scraggly, our skin dry and sallow. I felt a bit ashamed of how I looked, and kept myself mostly huddled down in the ratty gray sweatshirt I'd been given on the boat.

Then it was time for our interview. Taylor and I had rehearsed our story over and over-we were ready. Didn't stop my heart from beating out of control most of the way through the ordeal, though.

" _Vos noms_?" asked the thin, mustachioed agent as he sat across from us at a table in a tiny room. A cigarette smoked in the ashtray, occasionally lifted to the man's lips for a puff. He appeared bored with the whole exchange already.

"Names?"

" _Oui_."

"Roxi Redwood," I said.

"Julia Mistral," Taylor said.

He wrote them down. " _Vos âges_?"

"Uh, sixteen."

"Thirty-seven."

" _Vos origine_?"

"Origin? Unova. We're from Unova. We made it to Kanto but couldn't get further than that."

"Reason for arrival?"

"Seeking asylum."

He raised an eyebrow. " _Pourquoi?_ "

Taylor cleverly turned on the waterworks. "I… my husband, he's… he hurt us. He beat us and… I, I… sorry!" She sobbed a couple of times. "We were so scared. He put us in the hospital with injuries, and then later he… he threatened to kill us. We had to get away. Please, if we go back, he'll… I think he'll…" She trailed off, crying.

The official looked pained, and nodded. "I see. Well, fleeing domestic violence is a legitimate reason for asylum in Kalos." He made a note on the page.

Taylor sniffled and smiled. "Thank you, _monsieur_."

He waved his hand. " _Bien sûr_. Now, occupations?"

"Student," I said.

"Rhyhorn jockey," Taylor said.

The man looked surprised. "Rhyhorn jockey! But… that is illegal in Kalos, _madam_."

Taylor stumbled. "Um… well, I…"

"Do you have any other marketable skills?"

"Uh, I…"

"She's a healer," I cut in.

"Right! Yes, so… I can also do Pokémon healing work. Like in a Pokémon Center."

"Hmm. And you?"

"I'm a student."

"What were you studying?"

"I'm sixteen, so… I was in high school. Lots of things."

The man went _tut-tut_. "In Kalos, we finish group schooling at fifteen. You are sent to a trade school at fifteen and a half, to learn your profession. So… what trade should we put you into, then? If you are to be a resident of Kalos, you'll have to be part of our system."

I hesitated, unsure how to answer. "Uh."

"Pokémon healing," Taylor offered. "You can work with me."

"Yeah, okay! Sure."

" _Oui, c'est bon._ " The man stamped our papers and handed us two shiny new passports. He smiled slightly and exhaled a puff of sweet-smelling smoke. "Welcome to Kalos."

* * *

Taylor and I shared a quiet scream of joy and a frantic hug as we waited in the hall for them to take our pictures for our papers. We'd done it! We were safe!

As asylees, we were to be given housing in a small town called Vaniville. The next couple days were a whirlwind: immigration put us up for the night in a shared bunk room much like a trainer hostel. We were not permitted to leave the building, so we saw nothing of the town of Ambrette. The next day they shoved us on a bus and started us on our way. It took about eight hours to reach Vaniville, during which Taylor and I looked out the windows and marveled at the strange beauty of Kalos. It was so unlike the lands we'd been through already. I saw trainers battling with strange new Pokémon, and grew excited at all the possibilities that now lay open before us.

Upon arriving in Vaniville, we were shown to our home: a tiny two-bedroom house wedged between several other houses just like it. Vaniville was, apparently, a primary jumping-off point for refugees and asylees in Kalos, so most of these homes were occupied by people in our situation.

And then they left us alone, telling us only two more things: first, that we could stay in the house as long as we needed in order to establish ourselves, but they would be checking up on us, and second, that our new jobs at the Pokémon Clinic in Aquacorde Town started tomorrow morning.

Taylor and I sat in the living room of our new, fully-furnished home. I felt like I could breathe again for the first time in weeks. "I can't believe we did it," I said.

"Me either."

"And now we just… live here."

"I guess so!"

"It's weird. Why would they want to help people get settled? Why did they even let us in?" I was studying my fancy Kalosian passport, with all its text printed in two languages and my smiling, blonde-haired photo. Even someone who knew me well would scarcely recognize me in that picture-both for the hair and my thin, weathered face.

"Dunno. But we're here now, and that's what matters. We're safe."

"Safe." I stood and gave Taylor a hug. "Thank you, Tay. For sticking with me. I know I got you into this whole mess."

"Of course Lidya. It's not your fault, and I wouldn't dream of leaving." We made dinner with whatever they had in the fridge and cupboards and went to bed early.

I dreamt of clouds.

The next day we donned the uniforms they'd provided us and walked the two and a half miles to Aquacorde, to the north. I made a mental note to get a bike as soon as possible-that walk would get _real_ old. Aquacorde did not have a proper Pokémon Center, but it did offer a small clinic that provided basic healing services. Taylor's job, apparently, was to help get the place organized and ready for the upgrade to full Pokémon Center, which the clinic's director swore was coming any month now. I was the intern, tagging along behind my "mom" and learning all about healing Pokémon.

And heal we did: trainers came through the clinic all day long, some coming down from Route 3 to the north, others from Route 2 to the south, and from Vaniville. Apparently everyone knew Vaniville was a village of foreigners, and we heard comments ranging from cautious praise to outright stereotyping and hostility. I shook them all off, happy to have any kind of safety after months of low-grade panic.

I worked at the clinic for about two weeks before the course of my life changed yet again. It started with a heated conversation, continued with a mysterious letter, and ended with me strapping on Pokéballs once more, ready to set out into the world.

By the start of our third week I was growing restless. Healing Pokémon felt rewarding, but the slow traffic in Aquacorde meant lots of hours doing nothing, or studying medical books in the director's office as part of my "schooling".

I complained to Taylor one night after work as we enjoyed bowls of cheese and onion soup at home: "Tay, I think it's time for me to do something different."

"What do you mean?"

"I miss battling!"

"Lidya, it's too risky."

"No, hear me out, okay? I'm the right age for it, according to my passport. Trainers here usually start at 14, so I'm actually old for Kalos. No one would find it strange."

"But what would be the point, Lidya? You wanna become the League Champion of Kalos, too? You'd be signing your own arrest warrant."

"No, see, you're missing… that's the whole point. Look. We don't know who killed Wally, right? And even though I kinda busted us out of the police station, we can probably beat the heat on that too if we find out who really killed Wally and prove my innocence."

"And how do you plan to do that?"

"I not sure, exactly. Maybe I could do it as the Champion? I dunno. But we'll _never_ get out of this situation unless we find out who set me up and clear my name. And the only way we can do that is with Pokémon. I _need_ a team!"

"You _need_ to chill! Lidya, becoming a trainer in Kalos-"

"You said yourself the other day that we can't afford to keep living this way. You don't make much at the clinic, and I'm unpaid. We're losing money every day. I could help with that! Battling is lucrative if you're good at it, and I'm good at it."

"You can't get a trainer's license without a Kalosian sponsor. It says that right on our paperwork."

"A minor detail. I can figure something out."

"Lidya-"

"Taylor, if I don't do something, we'll be stuck in Kalos _forever_. Are you telling me you _never_ want to go back to Hoenn? Or even Johto? Are you really okay with living in low-income housing for the rest of your life, working at a tiny Pokémon clinic that sees, like, ten patients a day, tops?"

Taylor stared at me, breathing in and out. Never one to speak without thinking, she waited an uncomfortably long time before muttering, "No, Lidya."

"Huh?"

Louder now. " _No_ , Lidya."

"Why?"

"Because I can't lose you again."

That stopped me cold. "What?"

"If you go out there and… if something happens to you, or you get hurt, or you get arrested… Lidya, I spent six months in Johto becoming a trainer so I could rescue you. We traveled across Johto and Kanto and the ocean together to get here. I… you're like my sister, Lidya. I couldn't stand it if I lost you."

My heart ached, for so many reasons. "Tay… you know I feel the same way about you. I love you."

"Yeah, I know. I love you too."

"But... I'm right, right? About us needing to clear my name? About our finances? Having Pokémon is the only way I can do that. Without that, we're trapped here, just as much as we were when we were hiding from the police in Goldenrod. I'm not wrong, am I?"

"...no, you're not wrong."

I said nothing for a minute. "Let's sleep on it, okay? Talk about it tomorrow?"

"Sure, Lidya. Sure." We retired to our bedrooms, and my dreams were restless that night.

The next day a beautiful, monogrammed envelope arrived, addressed to _Mme. Julia Mistral_. It was from Professor Sycamore, the regional Pokémon expert. A faint but pleasant perfume wafted out of the envelope as Taylor opened it and read the letter aloud, in which the professor explained that he would like her daughter-me, Roxi-to join a small group of other young refugees and asylees from Vaniville as part of a special research team. I'd been selected because I was new to the region and had not yet set out on a Pokémon journey, which meant I would be a good fit for the kind of research the professor wanted to do. He would be our sponsor to get us trainer licenses, and he'd provide us with starter Pokémon. Professor Sycamore humbly requested Julia's permission for this expedition, stating that one of the other youth he'd recruited would be stopping by tomorrow to get her reply, and signed his name in huge looping script.

"Well, someone knows we're here," Taylor said, a little bitterly. "Not sure we can say no to this request." I kept quiet. "Lidya, what do you think?"

"Well, like I said yesterday, I want to get out of here. The only way forward is to have a team of Pokémon with me, and the only way to do that is to become a trainer. Seems like Professor Sycamore is offering an opportunity."

Taylor sighed mournfully. "Yeah, that's what I thought." She stood, handed me the letter, and said, "Okay then. Go, with your 'mom's' blessing."

I stood, hugged her, and kissed her on the cheek. "Don't worry about me. I'm pretty tough, y'know." We separated.

"Yeah, I know you are. Just promise me something, okay?"

"Anything."

"Promise me you'll make this worth it, and if it's not, promise me you'll come back."

"Of course. I will. Promise. And I want to promise _you_ something, too."

"What's that?"

"I promise I'll save us. I'll find a way for us to go home."

Taylor put on a faint smile. "Sounds good, sis."

I almost cried. "Sis?"

"You okay with that?"

"Yeah… sis."

She smiled broadly. "C'mon, let's get you some new clothes at the store in Aquacorde. Your nurse's uniform isn't going to cut it if you're going to be a trainer and researcher!"

* * *

I stood before the mirror in my bedroom the next morning, studying my outfit. The store had a pretty meager selection, so I'd done the best I could: black knee socks and black sneakers, a red pleated skirt, a black short-sleeve top, and a pink hat. Taylor also let me get a new shoulder bag, which held a regional map and a few Pokémon items.

Nervousness suddenly filled me as I gazed at my reflection. I was about to return to a life I'd all but left behind: that of the roaming trainer, facing the world with nothing but my Pokémon and my wits. I'd been nestled in the cozy lifestyle of Hoenn League Champion for two years, and though there were battles, they happened with much less frequency than I'd experienced when I was out earning badges. Then it was six months hiding out in Goldenrod, using borrowed Pokémon to gently rough up trainers. No real challenges had come my way in Lana's Gym, despite battle after battle. One crazy night led to four months on the run, and now here we were, Roxi Redwood and Julia Mistral, asylees in a foreign country with no friends, little money, and zero hope of ever going home again… unless I could become strong enough to face down anyone that might try to stop me.

Once I had a team of powerful Pokémon at my side, I'd return to my former island home and clear my name. I'd find Wally's murderer and make them pay, whoever they were. I'd stop at nothing. The path of the trainer was, once again, the only way forward. The only way to keep the promise I'd made to Taylor, and to myself: I would be the very best. Like no one ever was.

I would find a way to redeem us.

Then I heard a knock at the door downstairs, and there was no more time to hesitate.

My new life as Pokémon trainer Roxi Redwood was about to begin.

TO BE CONTINUED…


End file.
